Tavern Tale
by tenebricosa
Summary: It's a little something between a drabble and real story, to be completed at approximately six chapters. A retelling of some Harry Potter moments through the lens of SiriusRemus. The title tells the rest.
1. The Setting

_All right, let's get this out there. It's a new story, Remus/Sirius this time. And yes, people, I do understand that my stories are shorter than some peoples' chapters so there is really no need to berate me for it. I have the vast majority of this written and it will be about six or seven chapters in total. I've attempted a canonically accurate story so I have no AU warning. Take that, fanfiction gods! Way for me to throw you a curveball._

_I'm going to thank you in advance for reviewing because I know you're all going to because you're all such wonderful people and are going to leave me glorious, glorious feedback: Thank you.  
_

* * *

It was dim, lit only by a few tallow candles, the wax dripping down the sides to pool on the scarred wood of the tables they sat upon. The smoke rose to linger around the wooden beams in a choking grey miasma, hanging over the heads of the tavern's occupants. Inhabitants might have been a better word- it was always the same men who came to that place to nurse a beer and swap stories. They knew each others' stories by this point, it was inevitable. Years' worth of tales did that. Thick as thieves, each one knew every other's life inside and out, from their first date to their last love.

Occasionally someone else would wander in, having found the place by chance. Sometimes it was a tourist, other times just someone from the town who had not made it there before. It was generally the same story, that unlucky man would walk in to an uncomfortable silence, feel all eyes on him, sit down at the bar, drink something and make his excuses, still to that uncomfortable silence, peppered throughout with quiet murmurs. Raucous laughter had a habit of erupting right after that unlucky soul left, too. On a few occasions, by a general, unspoken consensus, a regular would wend his way over and sit down at the nearest barstool to strike up a conversation, like an informal interview with everyone in attendance hanging on every word. Those ones tended to gain grudging acceptance over time, listening passively until they finally jumped in to tell their own tales.

There had only been one exception to this rule in living memory. He was a quiet man, his sandy hair tinged with grey and his clothes obviously well worn. He walked in one day, seemingly oblivious to the silence, drank and sat, staring quietly and rubbing his thumb gently over a deep scratch on the bar. He finished. He ordered another. At this unorthodox and unprecedented act the light murmurs in the bar turned to full-on speculation, all of which the man proceeded to ignore. He finished and left, as quietly as he had come.

When he returned the next night the act repeated itself, and the night after. On the fourth night they elected a man to go over and talk to their mysterious and uninvited guest. After the man sat down at the bar their delegate sat down next to him, turned sideways so as to have a good view of his target. He waited a minute, weighing his words. "So, what's yer name?"

The stranger turned and examined him carefully, their eyes locking. A minute passed, agonizingly slowly for the man whose scrutiny had been turned back on him. He brushed his hair nervously back from his eyes, suddenly seeming like he was the one intruding on the stranger's private place.

"Lupin. Remus Lupin."

There was no more conversation that night. Remus returned the next day. There had been conjecture that he might not, that he might have been scared off by the intrusion into his public privacy. They didn't bother keeping to their forced quiet this night and he looked a little surprised when he walked in and wasn't greeted with a room full of hostile stares, maybe even a little disappointed, though none could say why that might have been. He spoke a little more that night, but only to answer questions, not initiating any conversation on his own. They learned where he was from –Londonish –, what he did –research, mostly –, and a few other small odds and ends that added up to a rough picture of his life, a sketched line drawing with any details omitted.

He came back day after day until one night when his usual seat was left empty. There was much talk that night as they waited for their mysterious intruder to come back and continue their strange ritual, he sitting and ignoring them, they pretending to ignore him while paying rapt attention to his every movement. He was clearly not easily deterred so this deviation was stranger even than it might have otherwise been. Hell, when one of their own missed a night the place turned into a gossip-monger's wet dream. So Remus Lupin's absence sparked more than a few stray rumors. They didn't know enough about the man himself to come up with anything so they turned to outside circumstances.

"Strange, that. He's been coming here for a week and we ain't scared 'im off yet." The man twirled his wand between his fingers as he spoke, still on edge despite the second victory over Voldemort several years earlier. "Mebbe he's off doing summat dark, dangerous. I don't trust 'im."

"Shut yet trap, George. He hasn't done anything wrong yet." He paused for a moment, considering the statement. "Yeah, nothing wrong. A little odd, but not wrong."

When he retuned the next day, he walked in as if nothing out of the ordinary had happened, sat down, and ordered his drink. To the surprise of everyone present, however, he struck up a conversation with the bartender. Well, not quite a conversation. A few questions followed by silence, but it was the most they had heard him speak so far. Days more passed this way, then weeks, then a few months, with Remus there nearly every night, missing only one or two nights a month. Nights on the full moon, one noted, nights when he heard howls, thought another. One of those nights the two put them together, the whole group hanging on their words as they worked out the puzzle. The next night Remus came in looking a little battered, a little tired, but otherwise the same as usual. The bartender was eventually the one to ask him, seeing as his clientele were too afraid to step up. Drew was a large, brash man with a penchant for being almost painfully blunt.

"Remus."

"Mm?"

"Are you a werewolf?" All conversation ceased, no one making any pretense of minding their own business, staring outright at the two men. Remus didn't answer at first, taking careful stock of the room, especially a shotgun that hung above the bar.

He gestured at it vaguely. "Silver bullet?"

Drew turned to look at it, his face beaming with pride, forgetting for a moment the issue at hand. "You bet yer life. Me dad picked it up when he was in the war, 'twas his prize possession."

Remus watched him for a minute. "I do, don't I? Bet my life, I mean. If I say no none of you will believe me and I'll probably be chased out of town for being a liar, though for all you lot know I could be an amateur astronomer." He snorted at the thought. "Not bloody likely, that. If I say yes being chased out of town seems the best of my options, worst case you take that rifle down from off the wall and blast a few shots in my miserable wolfish heart, you know, just to be sure. You can't be too careful with a werewolf on the loose, can you?" At the last sentence his voice dropped from a bitter crescendo to a dull, nearly lifeless calm.

He leaned back on his stool and spread his arms, baring his chest. "Do it then, off the wolf. It's about time someone did. Oh, fuck that. Let me finish my drink first." He ignored the shocked stares from all around him and downed the rest of his ale, coughing a bit as his eyes watered from it. "A'right. Fine. Get on with it, then."

He sat quietly on his stool, clutching the empty mug so tightly the blood drained from his fingers as Drew took down the rifle from the wall and aimed it at his chest, cocked it and put his finger on the trigger. There was silence for a long moment. "You really would let me?"

He snorted again in bitter amusement. "Like I have a choice. I'd rather not die restrained by this lot. Actually, I'd rather not die at all, but if you're determined I don't think any plot of mine could get me out of this pub alive. I couldn't muster enough magic to light a candle right now." He laughed. "Some big, bad wolf I make." He reached for his wand and sensed the collective flinch behind him, heard the rustle of a few dozen wizards reaching for their wands and felt them relax as he threw it blindly over his shoulder.

"Can we get on with this thing? I'd rather not wait all night. I've got places to go, people to see. An old friend of mine to apologize to."

"Who?"

"None of your damn business. Do me a favor and give me something else, something strong." He looked at the gun and grinned, a twisted smile that hinted at old pain and new uncertainty. "Please."

So the tavern watched the resident werewolf down shot after shot, slamming the glass down on the table after each one, his eyes never leaving the barkeeper. Soon he was swaying on his seat. "Fuck dignity." He had another. "I ne'er hurt no 'un." Another. "Whyssit always have ta be me?"

When he finally fell, unconscious, off his chair they banded together and carried him up the stairs to an empty room, put him in a bed, closed the door and headed downstairs to discuss him. He woke the next morning to a splitting headache and acceptance.


	2. The Characters

_Chapter two has arrived. I'm rather confused at the moment. It seems that my HD stories get quite a bit of press, the slash variety more so than anything else, but everything else is irrelevant and shunted off to the side like a pile of moldy cabbage. But I thank my one reviewer and do appreciate it, even if I rarely get around to replying to reviews. Oh well. I suppose I'll have to get back to work on Hero Complex..._

* * *

Years passed and Remus Lupin still came in nearly every day, still quiet and reserved. He sat at the bar, listened and commented on the tales, was friendly with all, but close with few. He shared very little of his life, remaining the bar's only enigma. A couple of new regulars were initiated after his night of acceptance and they knew even less about him, much less understood how he had become such a part of the small community.

One of them, a young, brash man, Jack by name, leaned across his table, his hand pressing into the wood's scarred surface. "Who is he?"

"What, who?" Ian, Jack's companion, had been there that fateful night.

"'Him, over there. At the bar. The bloke who's here every night yet I still 'aven't a clue who he is."

"Oh."

"What 'oh'? Why 'oh'?"

"He's a friend is all."

"Now I'm curious. Tell me more. Tell me something interesting about him."

Ian looked at him strangely. "Why the sudden interest? Ye've been coming here for years an' now ye suddenly want to know?"

The other man at the table, Dan, snickered into his mug. "No one knows anything about him. Well, except for one thing."

"What?"

"Now, now, that's not for me to tell, is it?"

Jack turned toward him impatiently. "Tell me."

Ian rolled his eyes. "I can't tell more than I know."

"And how much do you know?"

"I'm here almost every night. I'm pretty sure I've heard everything he's ever said. Not that _that_'s saying much."

Jack leaned in. "Tell."

Ian grinned, he couldn't resist an audience.

"Well…if I must."

"Well, get on with it. I don't 'ave all night."

"Yes ye do."

"Fine."

"All right. It's all about this one bloke, Sirius." He looked nervously over to the bar and, not seeing any movement from Remus, continued. "They went to school together, Hogwarts and all. Best pals, them and some other guys. Jack or James or summat like that and some other one, don't remember 'is name.

"Well, they were the big shots around the school, those guys, did all sorts of stuff, got in trouble. Best mates, the whole deal. Well one day they ended up in a broom closet together. Came out of it together too."

"Nuh uh." Jack snuck a glimpse over at Remus, hunched over his glass.

"Yeah." They leaned in closer, conspiratorially. "So they're great friends until the end of school when their pal has a kid, a little black haired brat, and they get this Sirius fellow to guard it, fidelius charm against… well, ye know. Well, things go on and this Sirius guy gives it up, goes over, all that. Horrible. An' guess who the kid was."

"You don't say…"

"I do. Harry Potter 'imself. So they send the Sirius bloke off to Azkaban."

"Didn't he murder some muggles or something?" Dan chose this moment to pipe in.

"Yeah, maybe. Anyway, they sent 'im off to Azkaban with the dementors and all and he escaped, used the dark arts and bewitched the dementors. They say 'e's the only one who ever managed." Ian continued, unphased by the interruption. "They met up again after that, did the whole thing, reunion, save the world, whatever. Well, wanted to. I hear the Black fellow was so riled up after Azkaban they had to keep 'im locked in a room so he couldn't hurt anyone."

"I thought he just went off and lived in the mountains or summat, solitary-like," Jack said, scrunching his nose up.

"Actually, I'm pretty sure he stayed with me after that, though I suppose I could be wrong. Anyone else know anything about the matter?"

They all gawked up at the unexpected figure of Remus Lupin standing over them, sandy hair hanging into bemused eyes.

"How'd you hear that?" Jack demanded angrily.

He shrugged nonchalantly. "Wolf's hearing."

"What wolf?"

"Oh dear. They didn't tell you about that part, did they?" He cast an inquiring glance over at Ian who shook his head, looking a little guilty about his role in the storytelling. "Well then, it's not really important anyway. It's been dealt with. I may have had a bit too much to drink at the time but I remember it well enough." It was the first any of them had heard him speak of that night. It had been a hush hush matter when Remus was around, none of them wishing to risk offending the man by bringing up a potentially sensitive subject. "Maybe more than a bit, actually. I seem to remember a god-awful headache the next day, too." He grinned ruefully.

"So I take it you boys are in the mood for a story. Sirius. It's… well, I have to talk about it sometime, I suppose. Nip the rumors before they spread." He sat down, Jack scooting over to make room. A few heads at neighboring tables had perked up. Hearing Remus speak was enough for that most nights; hearing about the prospect of a story from him… well, that was enough to catch anyone's attention.

"Oh Merlin, I need a drink." On cue the bartender, who he had become oddly close with over the years, plopped one down in front of him. Remus smiled gratefully up at him and sipped it, thinking carefully.

"All right then. It started a few years ago. Quite a few years ago. I was halfway through first year at the time, still lost and scared in Hogwarts. I was the quiet kid who sat at the back of the class. I couldn't figure out why the hat hadn't put me in Ravenclaw. Well, I was in Gryffindor, the lions. Rawr and all that. There were two boys in my year, best friends on first sight and always getting into trouble. Well, one day they decided they liked me as well…"

James Potter, prankster extraordinaire and best friend of one Sirius Black, sat down in his usual chair in the common room, a large, overstuffed red one with little roaring lions embroidered on it. It made him feel like a king, he said, though really he only took it because it was always available, being a little uncomfortable where someone had charmed the lions into steel. Sirius sat down next to him, resting on the floor and pulling out a sketched map of Hogwarts. James grinned and grabbed the map, pressing his finger onto it so that spot turned bright red. "Another one found. At this rate we'll get the whole lot of them by the end of the year. That one behind the knight was a stroke of genius, Sir… hello? _Hello_? Earth to Sirius?" James Potter was not used to being ignored.

Sirius murmured an apology and went back to staring across the room. "Do you suppose I could get him to help me with my astronomy homework? He looks like he'd be good at that type of thing."

"I don't know, who cares? It's not due until Monday anyway."

"It's Sunday now."

"Wait, what? Sunday? It can't be Sunday. Yesterday was... Oh. I was in the hospital wing yesterday. Blimey. I'd better get started on that, hadn't I?"

"Probably. You didn't do the last one and I don't think Dextra's altogether too pleased."

"Right, go ask him then."

Sirius made his way over to the small boy sitting curled up in an armchair in the corner, engrossed in a thick book. He turned a page and sneezed as a cloud of dust came wafting up.

"G'bless."

"Mm?" Remus Lupin looked up from his book to see Sirius Black standing over him. His eyes narrowed suspiciously. "What do you want?"

"Help."

"With?"

"Astronomy."

"I'm not very good at that, sorry."

"I don't believe you for a minute. Get over here." He grabbed Remus's hand and pulled him over to where James had taken up a seat at one of the large wooden tables, staring hopelessly at his homework. "Okay, help now."

Remus arched one delicate eyebrow nearly up to his tawny hairline. "You expect me to just help you like that?"

"No, not really. Please?"

He rolled his eyes. "Fine. I'm not much good at this, though, just to warn you."

"Right. So, what's this here?"

They trudged through the homework slowly, Remus picking up as much as he taught. He hadn't been lying when he said he wasn't much good at astronomy, but he turned out to be worlds better than Sirius and James. Combined. The evening reached a peak when James and Sirius started to talk about their plan to hex Snape's hair pink, running through possible spells.

"Just do a _fucet_. Spell it on the common room door or something – it'll get anyone who walks through."

"Genius!" James exclaimed excitedly. "Now, how would you go about spelling someone furry?"

"F-U-R…oh, never mind. It was you last week then? Who got Lucius?"

"Yeah."

"Oh, well then. If it's him you've got in mind I've got just the thing…"


	3. The Conflict

The rest of the pub lost all pretences of having other things to do, of having other stories to tell that might somehow be more important than what Remus had to say. Hearing him speak was a rare enough occurrence, so none of them were stupid enough to miss the chance of a lifetime to hear him relate an entire story. They had all heard rumors, through the grapevine so to speak, of him and this Sirius fellow. Speculation abounded on the few days a month when he was not at his usual seat. Who was the old friend he had to apologise to? Was he really a werewolf or was that just something a few of the guys had made up? What was his relation to the infamous Sirius Black? The new information was greeted with rapt attention and none of them paid any mind to the ticking of the clock. Even the bartender gave up his post and wended his way over to listen to the tale.

Remus looked up, amused at the effect his story was having. Then again, he thought, fresh tales were hard to come by in a town as small as this one. While he wasn't exactly fresh off the boat most anything he had to say was new and that was a welcome change for most of the people in the room. He took another swig of his beer and continued.

"Well, soon enough I was part of their group. We picked up another stray near the end of the year too. Peter was his name, a short chubby fellow who followed James around like it was his job. He wasn't a bad sort of fellow, just a little annoying at times. I'm ashamed to say I was soon an integral part of their pranks, though there was little love lost between me and the slytherins anyway."

"I've got a bad feeling about this, James."

"Oh, shut up, Remus. You planned it anyway."

"I did _not_. I was doing my homework, proper as you please, when you came over and _kidnapped_ me and dragged me over and made me tell you how to do these horrible things."

"You're joking, right? That was last year, anyway. We planned this one last night. Your memory's going, buddy. Besides, this one's _much_ better."

"I should never have told you about invisibility charms. Never. Ever."

"Remus, Remus, relax." Sirus sat on the edge of the plush chair and slid an arm over Remus's shoulder. "We can do this tomorrow night if you want." Remus tensed. Tomorrow night… tomorrow night was not good. Not good at all. It had almost sounded like a challenge, though.

"No, tonight's fine. I'm just jittery."

"No, no." James was in on it too, moving a little closer as he spoke. "Tomorrow. It'll give us some time to work on the fine points of technique, won't it?"

"I'm not sure. I uh… forgot to tell you, but my mom. She's feeling ill. Again. A relapse, I think. I might have to go home tomorrow night. Just to see her. So, uh…yeah. Tomorrow's not good." Remus was a horrible liar and he knew it.

Peter leaned in. "What's she got?"

"Um... she's… s-s-she's…" Remus stammered.

"It's all right." Sirius leaned closer still, his arm still around Remus's shoulders. "You can stop lying now."

"I'm not lying." He blurted it out instinctively, years' worth of training getting this lie out smoother than any he might make up on the spot.

"Remus. It's fine. We know you're a…"

Remus hung his head ashamedly, cheeks burning. "Werewolf…" he whispered the word as if that would soften its meaning.

"WHAT?" Jack started backwards in surprise and there were a few shocked murmurs, though most of the people in attendance were unsurprised.

"Oh dear. Maybe I shouldn't have said –"

"You're a _what_?"

"I'd rather not say it again, if it's all the same to you."

"You're a… a monster!"

Remus looked at him placidly, amber eyes meeting blue, resignation meeting shock. "Thank you. Just what I needed to make my night complete." He stood and looked around at the gathered crowd. "Maybe we can finish this another time."

Strong hands pushed Jack down, tacitly threatening, though no one made a move to touch Remus. "Please, ignore him," begged Dan.

He closed his eyes and sighed deeply. "I don't know if I can." He opened them again and looked over at the bartender. "I almost wish you'd done it when you had the chance. I suppose you get another one now." He walked over to the door and opened it, letting in a night breeze. A voice called out from behind him.

"Tomorrow?"

He turned and smiled sadly. "Tomorrow's not good."

There was silence until the door slammed shut, after which the tavern erupted into a sea of talk, all on one subject. Remus.


	4. The Romance

_I've had this chapter written for a while, so I'm uploading it finally. I like this story and while I'm a little put-off by the lack of reviews that's not going to stop me from posting the rest of it. Thanks to those have and will leave reviews.  
_

_-Nicole _

* * *

Everyone noticed the full moon the next night and made a special note to listen for unearthly howls, though they heard none. Remus didn't make an appearance that night, nor the next. When he came in on the third day he looked haggard and worn-down, but he skipped the usual seat and sat back down at the table with the three men from before, noting with some small satisfaction that Jack was sporting a black eye.

Jack looked up as he came in and then carefully studied the table, avoiding meeting the werewolf's gaze as much as he was able. Eventually he looked up, purple bruise looking angry against his pale skin. "I'm… I'm sorry. I was wrong."

Remus raised an eyebrow. "I've had worse. Believe me, I hold no grudges."

"I wasn't thinking. I've just been raised all my life to think some things and I never questioned them and-" he stopped abruptly when Remus put a hand on his shoulder. He flinched slightly but, Remus was glad to see, didn't jerk away or look disgusted at the contact.

"Got a lecture on manners, I see. Calm down. I came back, at least. I've had better reason not to before. Ask Ian here about it sometime."

"They were… they were talking about that last night."

Ian looked sheepishly over at Remus. "Hey, it's a good story."

"Glad to hear it. Remember it well, you'll never see it from me again. Drunk is, as you might have noticed, not something I do well."

"On the contrary. That might have been the most graceful fall I've ever seen. You should be proud."

"I'm touched, really, I am. Too bad I don't remember _that_ part of the night. I only pray that you took no liberties with poor, unconscious me." He grinned, a real honest smile that few in the bar had ever seen. It lifted years from his face and if you looked past the grey hair and worry lines you could almost see the boy he used to be. "All I remember after that was waking up to my wand and a silver bullet on the bedside table. I understand your intentions were good but you're still all inconsiderate prats. I had to swipe that thing off with a shoe to get at my wand."

"Oops. Didn't think of that one."

"I should hope you didn't do it on purpose. I would have stopped coming if I'd thought you had."

"Story?"

"Bloody bunch of five-year-olds, aren't you all?" By now all eyes were on Remus again. He was almost getting used to the attention. "All right. So I left off… right, never mind. Okay, so after they figured out that I was a full-fledged werewolf, you know transformations, aversion to silver, full marks on the DADA tests. How to tell a werewolf… what a joke. Anyway, my friends embarked on a new project. They became illegal animagi, though I never quite found out how. None of them quite seemed the type for studying that much.

"Anyway, there we were, complete with a new set of nicknames. I was moony, fittingly enough. So one day in sixth year Sirius and I were walking down to double potions when Severus Snape decided it was a great time to play a prank in return."

"It's dark."

"Yes, Padfoot, I know."

"I can't see."

"Neither can I, on account of it being dark. Which I know about as well."

"I knew that."

"Just reminding you."

"Why did that bastard have to take our wands?"

"So we couldn't spell out way out, I'd imagine. You'd have done the same thing to him if you'd thought of locking him in a closet."

"No. It's far too simple. It would never do. We'd need to think up something more majestic, more grandiose. Less common."

There was a loud clanking as Remus maneuvered his way around, trying to find a place to sit. "You might as well make yourself comfortable, Siri. I've got a feeling we're going to be here for a while."

"I'll kill that bastard."

"What, is the company really that bad?"

"Couldn't be better." Sirius clanked down and sprawled out. Right on top of Remus. "Oof. It's a small one, ins't it?"

"Mmm."

He squeezed in next to Remus, ignoring the broom handle poking him in the side. and stretching his feet out as far as he was able. He found very quickly that he had to prop his feet up on a shelf to stretch out properly and resorted to bent knees to avoid stiff legs. "I hope there's nothing crawling around in here."

"What, besides us?" Remus quipped. After a moment of silence he gave in. "Fine, I admit it. Not funny, whatever. Talk to me."

"Do the charms homework yet?"

"Yep."

"Can I copy it?"

"Absolutely not."

"But Remy, why not?"

"Don't call me that. And you know why not. You'll-"

"Never learn it if I don't do it by myself and I don't want to fail all the important exams and not get a good job and a wife and kids and live happily ever after." He paused. "Could I copy it for chocolate?"

"I am_ not_ your homework whore. Ask James."

"He hasn't done it either."

"Peter?"

"He's not in our class."

"You're useless, the lot of you. I don't know why I even associate with you anymore. You're an embarrassment. I should go woo Lily. We would have wonderfully intelligent and responsible children, you know."

"She's James's domain."

"You're right. Way out of mine, anyway."

"What?"

"Nothing."

"Did you just say you were queer?"

"I said nothing of the sort."

"Did you just _imply_ you were queer?"

"…no."

Sirius shifted to look blindly in Remus's direction. "You're just one surprise after another. Good thing your pals are on top of their game. We figure out all your little secrets right before we worm them out of you."

"Did I ever mention that I hate the lot of you?"

"No, because it's not true." Sirius stretched languidly, as much as that was possible in the tight confines of the broom closet.

"Padfoot, why is your hand on my thigh?"

"Moony, darling, you must be imagining things."

"Of course."

A few rather uncomfortable hours passed in the cramped closet which Remus spent napping and Sirius spent angrily devising ways to get back at Snape. Horrible, painful ways. Like locking him in a broom closet. Filled with _vipers_. He related them all to Remus when he woke up who then took the opportunity to poke holes in all his logic. Of course he didn't know where to get a pit filled with vipers and stakes and snakes and spiders. That was Remus's job. He did all the thinking and all Sirius had to do was sit there and look pretty.

Remus laughed loudly at that. "Oh, and you do it so well."

Sirius flipped his hair into Remus's face. "I do, don't I? My mirror tells me so every day. It says 'Sirius, if I were human, I'd shag you into the bed.' and I say 'well then, Mirror, I'm glad you're not because I just don't like you that way'". They laughed together for a moment. "It's too bad you got stuck with the brains of the group, Moony. You'd do sitting pretty almost as well as I would." He said dreamily.

"You're joking, right?" Remus felt his face flush and was glad for the first time of the darkness that enveloped them.

"Nah. Pretty, pretty Remus and his fanclub."

"Fanclub?"

"Yeah, you've got half the girls in the school lusting after you. Shocking, really. I suppose you'll have to go and disillusion them at some point, won't you?"

"Tragic."

Sirius scooted closer to Remus. "So, tell me. Who _do_ you like?"

"Now that would be none of your business even if there were someone."

"So you're unclaimed."

"Wholly and completely." Sirius moved in closer still. "Umm… Padfoot? I know it's a small closet and all but there's still a little thing I like to call personal space." All of a sudden strong hands gripped the sides of his head and lips found their way to his…almost. Sirius missed, landing a wet kiss half on Remus's chin, though he would later claim it wasn't bad aim for a dark closet.

When he withdrew Remus sat there and stared at where he thought Sirius must be. "That's something new. And a little awkward. What happened to your devoted fanclub? You know, the girls?"

"James can have them."

"Oh. Well then, that clears up a few lingering questions."

Remus could almost feel Sirius's grin. "Yes, I win."

"What? If it's not outright rejection it's score one for Sirius?"

"Pretty much, yeah."

"Oh, all right. Score one for Sirius, then."


	5. The Reunion

_Fanfiction is so vain. All we're really doing is fishing for compliments.  
_

_-Nicole_

* * *

Remus leaned back and smiled dreamily. "I haven't thought of that in a long, long time. Luckily for Snape things turned out so well for Siri. His head would have been on a pike outside the great hall if it hadn't." 

"A gay werewolf. Will wonders never cease."

"George." Remus inclined his head in greeting. The two had developed an uneasy relationship over the years, George always ready to think the worst of the werewolf and trying to pin any livestock disappearance or ill deed on him. Remus used to worry whenever he left the tavern, lest some harm befall him. By now he was fairly assured of George's nonviolence. Fairly.

"Lupin."

Remus shrugged. "I've never seen any lack of wonders. As for me, it as in for a penny in for a pound I think the expression goes. Anyway, Sirius and I were dating before the year was out. We picked up some scorn for that one in the hallways. Peeves especially had a great time thinking up new songs. And no, I don't think I'll share any of those. They tended to be a little…I don't know. Embarrassing isn't quite a strong enough word. Mortifying, perhaps. Oh, Hogwarts. We were innocent then. So ridiculously naïve.

"Well, time passed and James got his girl, Lily her name was. Lovely woman. She had the most beautiful green eyes I'd ever seen. They ended up head boy and head girl, though I'm not quite sure what the headmaster was thinking putting James in any position of authority. I think Sirius might have been the only reason I didn't get it. He wanted someone people would listen to, not the poofter bookworm. Not that I mind, of course. I was tired of being the responsible one, though I don't think I could ever really be anything else.

"You've all heard of the… incident at Godric's Hollow, I assume. Harry, little Harry, Lily and James's boy, came out of it alive. My friends, alas, did not." He swallowed back a lump in his throat. "Sorry. Reopening old wounds." He looked bitter for a moment. "Here comes the salt.

"Sirius had been their secret keeper so when Voldemort came knocking at their door, oh don't flinch like that, half of you aren't even old enough to remember the last battle. Anyways, when he came knocking everyone assumed it had been Sirius's doing. Sirius switched sides, true to his family, the Blacks, and betrayed his best friends through all Hogwarts. Sirius then went and blasted Peter Pettigrew to smithereens and a bunch of muggles besides. Sirius then was sent to Azkaban." Remus hunched in on himself, old pain shadowing his eyes. "I believed them, too. That was the worst part. I thought Sirius had done it as much as any of them. Until one day.

"I'm going to avoid detail on this one. I hope you don't mind. It's just… very private, very emotional, if that makes sense. If you want to hear more about it you can track down Snape or Ron or Hermione. They can tell you the same story. We found Peter, though, and cleared up the tale with Harry.

"This was while I was teaching at Hogwarts, DADA. Ironic, I thought, to have a werewolf teach that class. I don't wonder if that was why Dumbledore hired me for the post. He was always a fan of a good joke. Well, to give you the short version of events I found out that everything I had believed about Sirius for the last twelve years was a lie. All of it. Peter had been the secret keeper, the betrayer, the one who blew up that street and left his finger behind. Sirius escaped again that night, on the back of a hippogriff. We met again several weeks later, after I had made my way off Hogwarts grounds to the relieved sighs of many parents. They all knew what I was after that night, the end of my hopes of acceptance.

"I met him again in his ancestral home, the Black manor. We used it as the headquarters for our little save-the-world movement later. Then it was just an empty house with a few outraged portraits and an old house elf who didn't take kindly to either of us being there."

"Moony."

"Padfoot."

They embraced, a private reunion, but less poignant than their meeting in the shack. Old misunderstandings had been cleared up and Sirius found himself at a loss for words. "Moony, I…"

"I know."

"How can you know? I didn't even know what I was trying to say."

"I don't know, but I did. It's the same thing I'm trying to say. We've had twelve years of love's labors lost and I don't need to spend the next few hours trying to say something that neither of us needs to hear."

"Still the same, aren't you?"

"Yes. But you're not."

Sirius looked at him carefully, looking deep. "No. I'm not, and neither are you, are you? You've changed, even if you won't admit it. You look… sad. You never looked sad in school."

"Never?"

"Upset, maybe. A little depressed. Never really sad."

"I'm happy now, though."

"No, you're not. But we can work on that. Lunch? I found some old tins of beans in one of the cupboards and I've got a little bread. I think there might have been other food but if there was I'm sure that blasted elf hid it. Probably at the request of my mother. She'd love to see me starve. Even in death she's a malicious bitch."

"Remember that time I came over for a few days in the summer?"

"I could have told you that was a bad idea."

"The look she gave me… that was priceless. I've never felt more like a bug to be squashed."

They laughed, tense laughter that echoed in the empty house, disturbing the dust, a mockery of what it used to be. Remus followed Sirius to the kitchen, watching the back of his head with its long, lank black hair. He tried to forget how empty Sirius looked, all eaten up inside. At least he remembered. Some people forgot everything when they came out of Azkaban. Forgot their friends, forgot their family, forgot even their names.

"Twelve years…" he whispered it to Sirius's back.

"What?"

"It's been so long. Such a long time wasted."

"We're together again now, Moony."

"But will it ever be the same again?"

"I don't know."

They sat down and ate canned beans and stale bread at a dusty table in a moldy house, but it was a start. Sirius startled Remus when he stood suddenly up. "Cut my hair for me."

"What?"

"Cut it. Please."

So Sirius sat back down and Remus found scissors, right where they had been the last time he had been in the house. The placement was the same; everything was just a little dusty. He came back and cut off a chunk of hair. It fell to the ground and landed in a heap. Another chunk followed it, landing on top and a little to the side. After many cuts and after a greasy, dark pile had been formed on the floor Sirius's hair was back to its Hogwarts length, falling just above his shoulders. He raised his right hand and felt at the strands, running his fingers through them and delighting in the feeling when they reached the uneven ends. He turned in his chair, looking at Remus with sunken eyes that were beginning to show a little life. Just a glimmer of the past.

"Thank you, Moony. Back to normal, right?"

Remus smiled as his breath hitched in his throat. "As close as we'll ever be."


End file.
